


Lustful Rage

by dragongummy



Category: Taboo (TV 2017)
Genre: Desire, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Nudity, Obsessive Behavior, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Sibling Incest, Spoilers, Stalking, Supernatural Elements, Witchcraft, kinda???, mild stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 02:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16317287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongummy/pseuds/dragongummy
Summary: Thorne Geary's early hatred for James Delaney is transformed by an encounter in the woods in which he remains unseen, and witnesses James' naked form.**Remaining as true to the characters as I possibly can, but there is also slight canon diversion.**





	Lustful Rage

**Author's Note:**

> *SPOILERS THROUGH THE ENTIRE FIRST SEASON OF TABOO*  
> Just watched this show in one sitting over the weekend. Thoughts have been bubbling.
> 
> I was inspired by a *particular* moment in an early episode where James is applying white paint to himself; a handprint directly on his face, one on the back of his head. Then he runs his hand down his throat and onto his chest with his eyes closed and his head back and I was
> 
> SWEaTINg FAM, omFg
> 
> *Here is the gif:: https://66.media.tumblr.com/04b445df2e54eb1cb0e8415ec2aa2b41/tumblr_okjoph7p7r1qju7m4o5_500.gif  
> credit to pantherpause on tumblr

Zilpha was a cold, quiet thing. She was since the moment Thorne met her. On a bridge overlooking the ocean in the city. Dark hair pinned up tight into an even darker bonnet. She called to him in her coldness, lashes looking at him, piercing him in place. That was the start of his love for her, his willingness to give her a nice house with the finest china. Rarely did she have moments of pure, unhindered emotion. He sees little sparkles of happiness when she eats oranges or when she tends to the plants around the house. And when she lets down her hair or takes off her dresses she sighs from relief. In bed she's relatively restrained as well; she does what is required but nothing much else. But it is Zilpha, it is expected, so therefore it is fine.

-x-x-x-

 

No one is ready for when James Keziah Delaney storms through the church. Zilpha gasps out the most emotion he's ever seen from her and whispering fills the chapel to the cieling. It only takes him days to overturn the city, to have rumors circulating of how he ate human flesh in Africa. How he's been seen with black markings on his body that he keeps hidden and he's heard speaking a language not of England. He will not give up Nootka Sound, he will not yield to anyone. And Zilpha comes alive in bed. Aggressive, demanding. James appears everywhere, his impassive stare haunting Thorne behind his eyelids. Zilpha watches James, her lips parted and her eyes wide like a deer.

It doesn't take very long for him to put two and two together.

The rage starts to bubble.

-x-x-x-

 

Black coat, black top hat, black trousers, black gloves. It's as though he's erupted from the Gates of Hell itself. A black rider with wings. Seen more under the cover of night gliding between buildings. More rumors circulating that he stands on the banks of the shore in pitch darkness and watches the horizon for hours on end. Yellow and red powders found. Hushed, frightened voices of _witchcraft, witchcraft_. All eyes follow him wherever he goes, and Thorne finds it curious how intensely James demands attention when he so rarely speaks. Thorne admits to himself that he is no different; closer observation showing black markings on James' neck if you're looking for them when he turns his head.

There is a reason he is back. James is seen about town with various characters. All stand too close to him and they speak quietly and quickly. Money is passed. James saunters back into the city. Thorne knows because he's watching.

The rage simmers.

-x-x-x-

 

Zilpha is at an event in his stead and he goes into the city for meat. Rabbit, he decides. Only James is there too, sitting at the table with the butcher. It appears almost friendly, Thorne thinks, as he watches the butcher, _Atticus_ , briefly put his hand on James' arm. Without turning around, it's as if he's been spotted. James stands, swinging his leg over the bench he's seated at. He shakes hands with Atticus. An exchange of coin. James spares him a glance, and there is no surprise in his gaze.

"Good day," he rasps. And James is gone. People are parting near him like receding waves as he walks away.

"What can I get for you?" Thorne watches James' retreating form.

He can't help himself any longer.

He follows.

*   *   *   *   *

How he ends up in the forests, Thorne isn't sure. He keeps distance, a handful of times thinking that James knows he's watching. But he can't. It's impossible. He stays hidden, and stays silent. It's mid day now, the ravens casting shadows in their flight against the ground below through the trees.

Then he sees it, smoke through the brush. The smell of flames. Thorne approaches even slower, his heart thudding against his ribs. He comes across James' clothes first. Resting on a low hanging branch. He glances up and he sees...

James. Naked. On the ground. Not but twenty paces way. Thorne lowers himself, but can't bare to look away. Black coats James' tanned skin. Bands of solid around his upper thighs. One ring around his right, two on his left. On his arms and chest. Wind blows through the trees and the fire rises for an instant. Chills run down Thorne's back. James is in the dirt. Head thrown back, neck exposed. His fingers coated in yellow and red dye. Thorne can hear another language, something dark and purposeful. 

So the rumors _were_ true.

James raises his hands to his face, scrapes the colors down his cheeks before gliding them down his chest. His back is arching, he throws his hands above his head, grasps at the ground. It gathers beneath his palms. 

 _What on Earth?_ It almost looks as if he is in the throes of passion.He seems to be chasing something with his hips, and Thorne catches a glimpse of his manhood. Hard against his stomach. Thorne feels himself heating up, both embarrassed and enthralled. He is a beautiful man. Thorne is aware of this. Everyone is. Yet like this, exposed and his guard down, James is different. He is open and free and responsive. The opposite of his appearance. James thinks he is alone, this is a private encounter for him. Whatever _this_ was. He chooses not to think on that as another gust hits his face. James makes a choked sound, the smooth, hard muscle of his arms defined as he turns his face into his arm. Thorne can better see his face this way. Sweat on his brow, his thick lips trembling and his eyes squeezed shut. Thorne has to palm himself through his pants as an overwhelming thought looms over him. One he tries to tamper down, but the thought has risen. It's there. It grows.

**_Thorne wants to take him. He wants to feel James shake under him, feel the tight heat of him as he pushes that powerful body to release-_ **

He can only now make out the raised scars on James' arms. They stand out against his skin and the chill. James rolls to the side, out of sight momentarily before it looks like he's being jerked back to where he was by an unseen entity. Thorne has no coherent thoughts on it at the moment. Hands covered in bright blue this time run down his own legs, gripping his thighs where the black tattoos reside. Streaks from his hips that run into a handprint. He runs his palms up his body again. Blue, red and yellow mix together and he grips his throat with a hand before placing them back above his head. Angry looking blotched color blended into one echoes on the skin of his neck.

_**Thorne wants to take him. Wants to gently open him up, he wonders if James is used to that kind of touch, if he would beg-** _

James is panting, his thighs are shaking, and as the wind blows through the forest again, James makes a sound. Lewd and wet. Loud. His foreign words cease coming from his mouth, his back is bowed. Thorne sees white streaks painting his chest. He licks his lips, his face burning. He has to leave. Now. He backs up until there are plenty of trees between them before taking off into a near run back into town.

The rage erupts into lust.

-x-x-x-

 

Now when he takes Zilpha, he imagines someone else underneath him. The guilt is easy to ignore, for she viualizes someone else too, _the same person_ , taking her. They are alike in that way, Thorne supposes. And when she orgasms around him, he closes his eyes and imagines painted hands gripping his arms. Imagines James' body displayed in the dirt. Zilpha's legs around his back become James', shaking like they were in the forest, blue paint smudging off onto his nightgown. He holds Zilpha's hips down and makes her take it, makes _James_ take it, as he falls apart.

*   *   *   *   *

And when he sees James wandering the streets, he sees the markings underneath the coat. The line of his back and throat. The meat of his thighs. 

He meets him once more at the same butcher's shop. As James makes to pass him by, Thorne extends his hand.

"Good day, Delaney." James looks at him then. His blue green eyes barely visible over the brim of his top hat. He steps forward and takes Thorne's hand. His grip is strong. As he knew it would be.

"Yes, quite," is his reply. He's squinting at Thorne, suspecting an ulterior motive. He holds James' hand longer than he needs to, squeezing it until James squeezes back. Responding to him.

"Let me buy your meat for today," he breathes. James is sliding money to Atticus already. When he turns back, one of the corners of his lips is turned ever so slightly. Thorne wouldn't have noticed on anyone else, but James scarcely smiles, and it shines through without his awareness.

"Perhaps another time."  He doesn't leave immediately. He squints at Thorne, reading him. Then he's gone, black coat swirling around his ankles.

Thorne will have him.

-x-x-x-

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask about wtf happened in the forest, idek, but it was something I couldnt get out of my head.


End file.
